This was inspired by a chapter I read in a book recently. Its focus was these two characters sparring, and I enjoyed it so much I wanted to try writing something like it. I think I succeeded pretty well, if I do say so myself :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Super Smash Bros. Simple as that.

Early on a Saturday morning found Ike heading down to the recently repaired rec room. His shoes made no noise against the stairs down to the room, and in his hands he carried a pair of practice swords, made of metal with dulled and flattened edges. He was hoping, though not overly so, that someone would already be down in the rec room who he could chastise into sparring with him. As he got closer to the room, he began to hear the sounds of metal against wood: signs that someone was in there. Ike hurried his pace and jumped the last four steps, landing just inside the room.

Link was the one already there. He was barefoot, and lacking any sort of clothing besides a pair of loose, tan shorts. He held his blade, the Master Sword, in a basic two-handed grip and he padded across the floor, circling his target: a wooden dummy. Ike noticed that several chips and dents were already present in the shoulders and torso of the armless human imitation.

As the warrior stood watching, Link suddenly lunged forward, swinging his sword diagonally and cutting a deep gash through the wood dummy. Ike was impressed; the wood was thick, and it took impressive strength to create a wound like that.

The Hylian reassumed circling his enemy, acting as though the dummy could spring to life and attack him as he had just attacked it. A few feints, a horizontal slash, and a stab later, it was time for the final blow.

Link retreated, but farther back than before. He shifted his weight, dancing back and forth, before springing forward and into the air. He swung his sword up over his head and, with a wild yell, slammed it down upon the wooden dummy and split it with a crack, the two splintered halves flying apart.

"Impressive," Ike applauded. "You should test your skill now against something that can actually fight back."

Link stood up from the crouch in which he had landed, raking his damp hair out of his face. "Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe."

Link smiled cockily. "Then I accept. Pass me that practice sword."

Ike obliged, tossing him one of the two dulled swords. Link deftly caught it and leaned his own sword against the wall, where it would pose no danger to the two boys. He assumed the ready position.

"Ready?"

Ike rolled his shoulders, joints cracking. He mirrored Link's stance. "When you are."

The two boys stood facing each other, tense, and neither making a move toward the other. When Link's impatience got the better of him and charged, Ike followed a split second later. Their swords met in the middle, metal ringing, and both pressing against the other to see who would step back first. When it was clear neither would, they jumped apart and began anew.

They exchanged several blows, neither really gaining the advantage over the other: one would jab, the other would parry; one would swing wildly and the other would duck. They were evenly matched.

When Ike manoeuvred his way behind Link, trying to get him in the back, Link used his height to his advantage. Only coming up to Ike's shoulder meant that it was very easy for him to slip under the taller man's raised arm, and that's exactly what he did.

Now with the advantage, Link swung as if to decapitate Ike, fully expecting the fast parry that came and nearly sent his sword flying out of his hand. Link did not trust himself; he knew that if his swing had been hard enough and if Ike hadn't blocked, then even with a dulled blade he could have seriously hurt his friend, and he'd only attempted the move because he'd known that Ike would parry: he'd seen the initial movement before he'd even begun his swing.

They battled on, the sound of metal clashing ringing in their ears, and Link began to realize that he was losing. He noticed that Ike was slowly driving him back, and as his breathing became laboured it got harder and harder to defend himself. He had initially thought he could win by wearing Ike out, but though the man was as drenched in sweat as he was, Ike was clearly the stronger of the two. It wouldn't be long now.

Eventually, Link felt so taxed that even lifting his sword to defend himself seemed an impossible task. He began to simply duck and dodge.

Ike noticed the change in Link's battle strategy, and took full advantage of it. Discarding his sword momentarily, he rammed his shoulder into Link, toppling the smaller boy.

Link hit the ground hard, his breath whooshing out of him. His vision flashed, and he gasped. It took him a minute to regain control of himself. When he did, he saw Ike standing over him, holding the practice sword suspended point down over the center of Link's chest. In a real battle, he'd have been dead.

Ike moved the sword and stepped off to the side. Link rolled to a standing position with a huff.

"You win," he conceded.

Ike nodded, politely agreeing.

The boys fell silent for a moment, and then Ike commented, "You know, there's not a single mark on my body from that fight."

"Me neither," Link agreed, somewhat surprised. "Your sword never touched me once."

"Odd," said a new voice, "because since you lost you'd think he'd have hit you at least once."

Ike and Link jumped at the sound of the new voice, searching for its source. They found it in the corner: Marth was standing there, still in his pyjamas, watching them.

Link flipped. "How long have you been there, huh?"

"I got here shortly after Ike," Marth replied calmly, "right about when you two started to fight. It was impressive, though I can't believe that neither of you landed a blow on the other, with the exception of the finishing blow."

"I like to go straight for the critical hits," Ike informed.

Marth tugged his pyjama shirt over his head, exposing his chest, and produced a practice sword. He swung it around in a fanciful arc. "So, which one of you wishes to battle me?"

Link was the first to respond. "Not me!"

Marth looked sad. "Why not?"

"Because I couldn't even beat this oaf," the Hylian gestured at Ike, "so how can I expect to beat you?"

He got two answers at the same time:

"You have a point."

"Who're you calling an oaf?"

Needless to say, Link got out of there quickly and spent the rest of the day keeping his distance from Ike. He liked his face the way it was, thank you very much.

Is it wrong that the mental image of Link shirtless and sword fighting is making me swoon? (Link: Possibly. Me: SHUT UP! WHO ASKED YOU?)